by Diana Hunter
When John awoke, his head lay on his feather pillow, the comforter had been pulled over him and Lauren slept soundly beside him. Rolling over, he glanced at the clock on his dresser, forgetting that he’d turned its face to the wall so Lauren wouldn’t see it while they were playing that afternoon. Losing the sense of time passing played a big role in the scenes he’d crafted for her.
Night had fallen, although light from the street lamp provided enough illumination for him to pad his way around the end of the bed to fix the clock. Gently he slid out of bed, trying not to rock the mattress and wake his lady love. Turning the clock, he blinked several times as his brain registered the fact that it was four o’clock. In the morning? Had he really fallen asleep at eight last night? No wonder he felt ready to get up and get the day started.
A look at the bed convinced him he didn’t really want to do that. Lauren lay on her side, her back to the side of the bed he’d slept on. Both arms were tucked up tight against her body, her knees pulled up as well. Nothing could bring home more clearly the fact that Lauren had demons that haunted her even in her sleep.
At least he’d chased those demons away for a while yesterday, he thought as he climbed back into bed beside her. Gently he rolled her into his arms, gratified when she curled into him. She mumbled something and John put his ear closer to her mouth. “What?”
“I need to get these boys to safety.”
A lump formed in his throat. “I’ll help you,” he whispered and pulled her closer. He whispered it again, meaning it in an entirely different way. “I’ll help you.”
Lauren awoke to an empty bed and the smell of bacon. Taking a luxurious stretch, she tested her muscles for any signs of residual soreness after yesterday’s decidedly exhausting activities.
Feeling no impediments, she rose, used the bathroom and used his brush to untangle the mess her hair had gotten into. Done, she turned to the next item in her morning ritual only to realize she had no toothbrush. She did what she could with her finger and a small dab of toothpaste, her innate sense of hygiene not allowing her to use his brush. There were limits to what could be shared.
Not even bothering to look for her clothes and feeling increasingly comfortable with her nudity, she bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen.
John stood at the stove in a T-shirt and jeans this morning. “Ah ha! Just in time. Grab the eggs out of the fridge?”
She did, bringing over the carton and sliding one arm around his waist from behind as she set the eggs on the counter. He lifted his arm and she bent under it to give him a morning hug. John did her one better, leaning over to give her a quick kiss. “Morning.” He smiled.
“Morning.” Was she really blushing? She’d spent the night with a man before. Yes, it had been in a dusty, sandy tent and they’d breakfasted in the mess hall, but still. She wasn’t a child and this wasn’t her first time.
John nodded toward the toaster. “Go ahead and put in some bread.”
Glad for something to keep her hands busy lest she let them roam all over his most wonderful body again, she opened the loaf of wheat bread and plopped two slices into the toaster. “This is far more breakfast than I usually have,” she told him.
“Me too. Special occasion and all that.” He grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows and she laughed.
“Okay, since it’s a special occasion, how could I say no?” She looked around. “Orange juice too, I suppose?”
“In the fridge.”
Sure enough, right on the middle shelf. She pulled out the pitcher, found two glasses and poured them each a healthy glassful. The table hadn’t been set yet, so she did her part as he plated the bacon and then poured off the grease into a container that once held cocktail peanuts.
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Over easy,” she told him. That odd feeling of contentment stole over her again and she paused, one hand on the back of a kitchen chair as she looked around the room. Beth had this. A home, a husband, a kid. Sarah had the husband and the home. They both lived lives they loved.
For the first time Lauren realized she could have it as well. She thought of her apartment, sparsely furnished with barely any sign she lived there. Well, she hadn’t really, had she? She existed there. And if she was honest, she hid there.
She watched John expertly flip her eggs and her throat caught. Could she really do this? Could such a dream really be possible for her?
Inside herself she rooted around for that feeling of listlessness that had settled over her ever since leaving the service. That lassitude kept her chained to inactivity. Oh, she filled her days with busywork, taking Ian out to places, wandering through the park, visiting museums and the zoo. All the places she’d always wanted to go to but never had the time. She’d told herself and her friends she was on an “extended vacation” but everyone knew she was running away from life.
John, whether he knew it or not, offered her a way back. Did she want him because of that? Or was this true love? As for the sex, yeah, she could live with him as a Dom in the bedroom. Yesterday had been incredible.
But what was today?
Too filled with questions, she only nodded when he pointedly reminded her that the toast had popped. She buttered it with automatic motions, coming to sit at the table when he gestured, her mind once more retreating into a safe place until she figured everything out.
So filled with her own thoughts, she started in surprise when John held her chair for her. “Aren’t you supposed to make me eat off the floor or something?” she asked, her voice a bit sharper than she intended.
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“Then if you will…” He gestured to the chair he still held for her. Pulling herself together, she sat with as much grace and decorum as she could muster. Unfortunately, she couldn’t muster much and she more or less plopped into the seat.
When he sat, she apologized. “I’m sorry. I know we’re working out the details but I don’t think I’d like being treated like a dog very much.”
John studied her and Lauren set the cloth napkin on her lap to cover her own sudden self-consciousness. “We both have limits. Lines we’re not going to cross.” He shrugged and picked up his fork. “Part of the fun is finding those lines.”
Lauren picked up her own fork, studiously keeping her gaze on her plate. “And you’re not going to be upset when I say, ‘no, that’s a limit and I’m not going there’?”
John put his fork down and took her hand. Lauren looked up, wanting him to be her knight despite her words to him days ago. He didn’t disappoint.
“Lauren. I’m not a monster. Will I push you? Yes. Will I ask you to try new things? Yes. But you have a lot of power here too, you know. If you don’t want to do something, I will never, never…never force you.”
Lauren believed him. He sat there, so earnest in his promise, how could she not? Suddenly feeling foolish, she blushed. “Thank you. I know you’ve said it before and I’m sorry I got a sudden…” She searched for the right word and came up empty.
“It’s okay. We all need reassurance from time to time. And I will always be here and I will always make the same promise.” He gave her hand a squeeze before picking up his fork and taking a bite. “Eat your eggs before they get cold.”
Feeling reassured, Lauren took a bite, then another. “These are good!”
He chuckled. “You sound surprised.”
“I am. Is that cinnamon in the eggs?”
“Yep. You like it?”
“I do! Never would’ve thought to do that. But yeah, I like it a lot.”
They finished their breakfast and added the morning’s dishes to those from the night before to the dishwasher. Lauren stretched and looked regretfully at the clock.
“I didn’t expect to spend the night. I’m afraid I have an appointment this afternoon I need to get to.” She didn’t volunteer what the appointment was and felt relief when he didn’t question her. In fact, she didn’t have an appointment. Yet. But she would.
After the last twenty-four hours? Yes, she definitely would be making an appointment.
“Let me get your clothes. Did you want to shower here?”
Lauren shook her head. “No, it’s okay.”
John disappeared up the stairs and Lauren fidgeted in the kitchen. Was she supposed to follow him? Or was he bringing her things down from some hidey-hole she shouldn’t see? Damn, but this kind of relationship made for a ton of questions.
He brought her things and she dressed in front of him, feeling almost as disconcerted as she had when she’d undressed the day before. Had it really only been one day? So much of her life had changed in such a short space of time.
“There’s a reenactment this weekend,” he told her as she dressed. “It’s huge. We’re in the midst of all the one-hundred fiftieth anniversaries of all things Civil War.”
“Wow. That war seems so long ago. Hard to believe it’s only been a hundred and fifty years.”
“This weekend is Antietam.”
Lauren paused, her fingers stilling on her blouse. The way he dropped that name, the heavy sound of his voice, she didn’t know much about the battles of the Civil War, but apparently that one had significance.
When she looked at him, clearly not understanding, John explained. “Antietam was the bloodiest battle of the war with the highest number of Americans killed in a single day, ever.”
She gave him a skeptical glance as she slid her feet into her sandals.
“Remember,” John’s voice was soft, “every man who died in that battle was an American.”
Lauren now understood. “Brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor. All of them Americans.”
“It’s right that their deaths are commemorated.”
“By reenacting the battle where they died?” She knew she sounded skeptical.
“Yes.”
That was it. No apology, no explanation. Just “yes” as if that were enough reason for him to be there. Lauren gave him a level gaze as she assessed his answer. Anyone else and she’d challenge him with the “boys playing war” argument.
Except there was something in John’s stance that brooked no argument. And something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. For a moment, he wasn’t there with her. He’d gone somewhere else.
But then he smiled and the ghost that haunted him disappeared. “What do you say? You think you’d like to come along?”
“I thought women stayed home and did laundry while their men were off fighting.”
“Most did. Some came along and lived outside of camp.”
“Camp followers?” She swayed her hips suggestively.
“There were those too.”
Lauren laughed and picked up her purse. “Don’t have a period saloon-girl outfit.”
“There were nurses there as well, you know.”
She stilled. “Clara Barton started at Antietam. Almost got killed doing it.” She turned to face him. “I do know a little of my nursing history. And I’m not going as a nurse.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I’d love for you to join me this weekend. But I won’t push. Think about it.” He kissed her and Lauren wanted to say yes right then and there. But then he pushed her toward the door. “Give me a call later.”
“Will do.”
He walked her to the car and closed the door for her once she was inside, then waved to her as she drove away. Humming a little to herself, Lauren couldn’t wait to get home. A few blocks from his house, she pulled over and took out her cell. Scrolling through the numbers, she found the one she wanted and clicked “send”.
“Hello, I’d like to make an appointment with Dr. Butters for this afternoon if possible. Yes, I was a patient of his a few months ago, but I wasn’t ready to talk about what happened to me over there then. Yes, I am now. Excellent. I’ll take the cancellation and see you shortly. I’m ready.”
I am very much ready now, Lauren thought to herself. Time to take care of her demons.
That evening, Lauren couldn’t figure out why it had taken her so long to go see Dr. Butters. She felt so much better for having talked to him. He’d helped her to understand her PTSD wasn’t a curse or a weakness of her own spirit, but an honest and true reaction to the terrible things she’d witnessed. For the first time in months, Lauren felt like the sun might be rising rather than setting on her life.
She almost called John then thought better of it. He definitely played a part in her renewal but she needed to do this for herself. Her friends too would play their own part, and in fact, already had by making her a part of the gang again. She had initially felt like an outsider with them and had attributed that to the fact that she’d been gone and they’d moved on. Now, however, she understood that wasn’t the real reason. Only part of it was her inability to tell them of the things she had seen and done over there. The rest of it had to do with their relationships with their husbands.
But now Lauren had been initiated into the world of BDSM and that drew them closer together. As to her experiences overseas, those she would continue to shield from them. She’d gone through all that so they wouldn’t have to. That was something Dr. Butters had helped her to understand. Knowing she’d played a part in their protection gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling.
As to the reenactment, Dr. Butters helped her put that in perspective as well, although her decision to go had more to do with the ghost in John’s eyes than the good doctor’s words.
As Lauren climbed into bed that night, she smiled into the darkness. She’d done a lot more smiling in the few short weeks since meeting John than she had in several years. Rolling over, she tucked herself into the tight little ball she always formed for sleep, but then purposefully stretched her legs and rolled onto her stomach. Dr. Butters had warned her old habits would be hard to break. She might as well get started on breaking this one right away. With a deep breath and a sigh, she fell asleep, her body taking up far more room than it had in years.
* * * * *
“So besides a sleeping bag, a tent and a cookstove, what else do you need?” Beth balanced the baby on her hip as she pulled a neatly rolled thermal sleeping bag from the storeroom closet.
“I figure we’ll be camping out the entire weekend, starting late Thursday night. I’ve got clothes enough and John says there’s a Laundromat in town if we need it.”
“You staying in a campground or out on the field?”
“Campground. John’s friend, Will, has offered to share his RV with us, but we thought a tent might give us more…privacy.” Lauren couldn’t hide the silly grin that had been with her since talking with John that morning. Okay, so maybe going off to watch grown men play at war wasn’t exactly the most romantic weekend getaway, but when the man was John McAllen, how could it be anything but wonderful?
Beth laughed and handed the baby to Lauren. “Oh girl, you have it bad.” She turned her attention to her infant daughter. “Auntie Lauren is learning just how much fun it is to be a bad girl and she’s going to have a wonderful time this weekend.” She dropped her voice and gave Lauren a knowing look. “If Big John keeps her tied up, that is.”
“Beth!”
Her friend laughed, hoisting the sleeping bag in one arm and a small bag in the other. “These are the tent stakes,” she explained. “I assume you remember how to put up a tent?”
Lauren shook her head and followed her friend into the kitchen. “I did just get out of the Army, you know. Tents are still the default housing for troops on the move.”
“Well, this ain’t no Army tent. And it’s big. You’re probably going to need a camp site all to yourselves. The tag says it sleeps eight, but we’ve found the four of us fit quite nicely.” She dropped the bags on the floor and took Emily from Lauren’s arms where she had been intent on pulling every lock of Lauren’s hair just in case any of them weren’t attached.
“You know,” Beth informed her as she pried loose Emily’s fist from Lauren’s tresses, “you can tell her not to do this. She’s starting to understand
the word no.”
“Oh she wasn’t hurting. My scalp could use a good massage.”
“So you’re leaving Thursday, coming back on…Monday?”
“That’s the plan.”
“You ready for this?”
Lauren heard the underlying question in the seriousness of Beth’s tone. She nodded. “I’ve been to see Dr. Butters.”
Beth stopped mid-motion, Emily half-in, half-out of the swing she would outgrow in another few weeks. She looked over at Lauren. “The Army psych doc?”
“Yep. We had a very good conversation yesterday.”
Beth straightened and gave a satisfied smile. “It’s about time.”
“I know. John asked me to go to the reenactment with him and I knew I had to deal with my PTSD before I could say yes.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed. “You do realize one session with a therapist isn’t enough to cure what’s going on inside your head?”
Lauren waved her hand in dismissal. “I know that, I’m not stupid.” She smiled. “But I am in love.”
Beth shrieked and gave her a huge hug. “I was hoping I’d hear you say those words. I’m so happy for you, Lauren!”
“It’s a weekend, Beth, not a marriage ceremony.”
“But you love him.” She stopped as a thought occurred to her. “Does he love you back?”
Lauren couldn’t stop the laugh and didn’t want to. “Beth, that’s so junior high!”
“Well?”
Her grin deepened. “Yes, he loves me back.”
“Oh this is so great. I mean, going away for the weekend was good. You need it. A chance to go away with a gorgeous hunk of male? Even if he is dragging you to a pseudo war zone…” Beth stopped talking long enough to put the milk bottle she’d been preparing into the baby’s hands, who eagerly tipped it up and fed herself. Lauren took the chance to get a word in before Beth continued.
“And I’m ready to face the ‘pseudo war zone’ as you call it. I know none of it is real.”
If her friend had any further misgivings, she wisely kept them to herself. Giving Lauren another hug, she pointed to the garage. “Tent’s out there in a big blue rayon bag. Long and skinny. Go put it in your car.”